The truth about the road to recovery

Today I had an appointment with the therapist here at the cancer center. I had seen him while I was going through treatments because lets be honest, I was a mess. He helped me tremendously. He helped me deal with the reality of what I was facing for myself and my kids. The last time I saw him was right before surgery in September of last year. I have been doing very well, or so I thought, since then so there was no need to see him. On Wednesday I had a complete breakdown in my oncologists office, kind of awkward since I work with him too. I told him, ok my friend Maria told him, I was not ok. I was angry, I was telling everyone that I was fine. I was putting on a smile and being the positive person I am supposed to be. He suggested that I go and speak with the therapist again, I was dealing with things that no one could understand and I didn't want people to judge me or think I was ungrateful for this second chance I was given. So, I have learned how to keep most things to myself and constantly say I am fine. It eventually became too much to keep in and it all came flooding out.

I can say that today's appointment was probably one of the best appointments I have had. The things that he was saying to me actually made sense. For the first time I felt like someone truly understood what was going on inside my mind, I felt like someone was being honest and not just sugar coating everything. He asked me about my anger, I told him I was angry. I was angry this happened, I was angry Gabrielle was having a hard time, I was angry that no one understood, and I was angry that I haven't emotionally/mentally "healed" yet. He asked me how I was while at work, I told him oddly enough I am fine. He repeated himself and told me to now answer him honestly. Well, he asked for it. I was not ok at work, actually in the one place where everyone should understand, I feel like no one understands. I feel like for the 6 hours a day that I am there I have to be happy, I have to be positive, I have to say life is great. I feel like I have to do these things for the other cancer patients, I feel like I have to be the poster child for cancer survivors around my co-workers,when in all honesty I want to tell them how much this sucks, how hard it is to move on. He moved forward in his chair, looked right at me and said "I am about to blow your mind with something", not gonna lie I was a little nervous. He said all the posters, pamphlets, motivational speakers, everything that society has put on cancer survivors is complete bullshit. You are expected to be positive at all times, you are expected to always say how grateful you are, you are expected to end chemo/surgery/radiation and instantly transition back into "normal" life again, you are expected to be everything but honest. He was right.

Once you are diagnosed with cancer everyone tells you the same thing. You are strong. You can do this. It's no fun but it's doable. Time will fly by. All these things are truthful but what people leave out is how the road to recovery is more difficult then actually getting the chemo, then actually having surgery. I can't explain it fully unless you have been there. When you are going through chemotherapy you sit in a chair with an IV hooked up to you while toxins are entering your body, those toxins are doing a service to you, no matter how much they suck. When you are getting radiation, again it is doing something positive for you in the long run, even though you get radiation burns. Same thing goes for surgery, its serving a purpose. Once its all over and in my case you had a bilateral mastectomy looking at yourself is a reminder everyday, that will never get easier. I can't not go a day without thinking about it because I have to take my shirt off. Sure I have implants so no one would ever know but I can see the twelve scars. I live everyday in fear that it will come back. Any cancer patient who says they don't just doesn't want to admit to it. I was told that I have an 83% chance of living ten years disease free. Statistically looking at that, I have pretty good odds. The thing is I see the 17% percent. Why would I be in the 83% when I was in the minority to begin with. It was rare for this to happen to me but it did. So in my mind the odds are already stacked against me. Today my therapist told me that I will not ever be that other person again, I will always be the cancer patient and that is not a bad thing. It is the way society has placed a certain image that cancer survivors are supposed to live by. And he was right. I have spoken to other breast cancer patients, I have been there for others while they got chemo, I have tried to tell them all is going to be ok, and it turns out I was just doing to them what everyone has done to me.

Truth be told. This sucks! The road to recovery IS harder then the actual fight. You can't just put it behind you and move on because this will be a part of you forever (how you choose to deal is a personal decision for everyone). Living every day like its the last day you are going to be in remission is a great way to live, it shouldn't have happened in the first place but it did, it's ok to NEVER accept that it was you. It is ok to cry for no reason or cry and not have to make up an excuse. It is ok to have days were you just want to talk about what happened to you, it is ok to accept help and love from others no matter how many months/years you are out for treatment. Most importantly it is ok to not feel like you have it all under control at all times because like my therapist told me today, I dare one person to look me in the eye and tell me I am weak. I dare one person to tell me I don't have the right to still have these feelings. I dare one person to judge me. I am the one that sat in a chair getting chemo, I am the one that had both breasts removed, I am the one who has been radiated. I am the one who literally went to hell and back. I am the one who decides when I am healed, not society.

My feelings

This time of year, October-January, has always been my favorite. I love Halloween, my kids birthdays, Thanksgiving, picking out our Christmas tree, Christmas shopping, Christmas, saying goodbye to another year lived and welcoming a new year (with my birthday). For some reason I am finding this time of year to be difficult this year. Last year I had so much to be thankful for, I made it through 4 months of chemotherapy, major surgery, a hospital stay, and radiation. I was thankful to be cancer free and to be alive and healthy. I am still thankful for those things, I am just finding it very very hard to be motivated to get anything done, I almost feel like I need time to slow down. I need time to wrap my head around certain aspects of my life, I need time to think about the things that I am fearing the most right now.

Being healthy. Am I a picture of health? No. Am I still cancer free? I hope so. The thing is, I haven't been feeling right lately but out of complete fear of what I went through, fearing hearing the word "recurrence", and of course fearing not being here to see Gabby and Cole grow up are something I can't deal with. I have literally been living off Xanax for the past month. I know I should talk to my oncologist about certain things but I can't. After what we just went through (and are still going through) with Gabby, I wouldn't be able to handle if something shows up on a scan. I don't want to think about the possibility of something coming back but when you wake up with headaches, feel tired all the time, can't remember anything to save your life, and feel short of breath for no reason it scares the hell out of you. I have gotten pretty good at keeping all my fears  and "symptoms" to myself. These are things that I haven't even told Ryan about. I think I do this because I honestly don't know what I would do. I can't think about 2011 without having a complete breakdown. I can't think about ever sitting in that chemo chair again, I don't know how I did it the first time around. We also just went to a funeral for Ryan's uncle, who passed away from cancer, that was harder then I thought. Sitting there in the church and seeing his coffin and hearing what the preacher was saying, in my mind I was picturing it being me. Picturing my kids sitting there saying goodbye, imaging Ryan's life with someone else. I know that is twisted. In my heart I feel like I am ok ( at least I pray every night that I am).

Family. I know family business is personal and should be kept in the family. This is my blog and I can write my feelings about anything. This holiday season, I know it just started, is going to be a difficult one. I don't talk to my sister anymore, I don't see my nephew or niece anymore. I honestly never thought that when my journey with cancer was over that I would have lost more then just my hair, boobs, and security of a future. I never thought that I would be "picking up the pieces" of my life and moving on without the one person who was always there. I never thought this is how it was going to be. When it comes to actual family I only have the 3 people that live in my house and my parents. Ryan, my kids, and my parents are the only family that I really have. I know how important family is, I know that Ryan and I would not have survived 2011 and most of 2012, financially, without my parents. Thank you for everything you have done and continue to do.

I know today is Thanksgiving and we are all supposed to be happy and enjoying the day with our families.  I am happy, I am enjoying the day with my kids and husband (when he gets home from football of course), I just needed to get those things off my chest.

When you feel helpless...

As anyone who reads this blog knows that I am the proud mommy of two amazing children. My son, Cole, just turned 5 and my daughter, Gabrielle, just turned 6. They were 3 and 4 when I was diagnosed with cancer. Having worked in a cancer center all their lives they already knew what cancer was and how sick it made people. My husband and I have always been very honest with them, we never wanted to feel like we were lying to them, we wanted them to be a part of what was happening and we wanted them to be just as educated on this disease as we were. We told them as soon as I got home from the doctor that I had cancer. It wasn't like a scene out of the movies where the parents keep it to themselves and try and sugar coat everything, it wasn't overly dramatic either. I didn't cry (I think I was still numb myself), I actually don't remember telling them. I know that we told them that night and I do remember that I was trying to put on a brave face for them. I remember them just saying "ok" and going on with their night. I also remember that for the first couple weeks after I was diagnosed Ryan and I would sleep in the living room, I actually slept on my couch for 7 months. I would not sleep at night, I would wait until everyone was asleep and I would sit in the dark and just cry. I would close my eyes to try and sleep but every time I did that I would just end up yelling at God in my mind. A year and a half later and I still can't watch The Nanny on Nick at Night. That show seemed to always be on when I was having a breakdown. As we got more and more information about my cancer and what needed to be done we would tell Gabby and Cole as soon as we found out. Cole, I am not sure if it was because he was 3 or because he is a boy, but he would just say ok or cool. He was very compassionate through it all though. He would spend many hours just sitting with me on the couch or giving me his blankies to hold when I was sad. He also seems to have been able to move past everything and his little life is normal again and he still the same funny, loving Cole that he has always been. Gabrielle, she is a different story, she actually breaks my heart.

Gabrielle is one of the most caring, compassionate, intelligent (sometimes we think she is too intelligent) little girl I have ever seen. She is also her father, she keeps everything to herself, she doesn't like to make people upset, she doesn't like for people to see her upset. When she is sick she won't tell you, when she is scared she won't tell  you, when she feels like she has done something wrong or if she can't fix something she gets upset. I never thought in a million years that 1 and a half years later Gabby would still be secretly dealing with how cancer affected her. Before I was diagnosed Gabby was pretty independent, she would sleep in her own bed, she would do things by herself, she would have play dates with her cousins, she would sit on the floor and watch tv or in the chair. Now, she has never liked to spend the night away from home but she never minded going somewhere for the day. Lately we noticed a big change in her, something that just wasn't Gabby. Gabby loves school and she suddenly refuses to go, she cries and says her tummy hurts and she needs to stay home, every night she asks me about 20 times if she can sleep in my bed with me or if I can sleep in her bed with her,when she does go to bed she just lays there and cries, when we are home together wherever I am, she is right there. When I am watching tv she is literally sitting on one of my legs. If I go to the store she wants to go with me. Every morning when I get up at 6:20 to get in the shower she is right there sitting in the bathroom, she follows me downstairs, she walks me to the door every morning. I wish I could stick my text thread from Ryan on here, every morning when I am driving to work I get at least 5 text messages and they always say the same thing, "I love you mommy from Gabby". I will admit that at times all these just constantly being next to me all the time have frustrated me and I have told her to please walk away, give me some space. Well, in the past week things have gone from bad to worse. Our dog got really sick, thank god we were able to put him on some meds and see how it goes, ever since that day Gabby won't go to school. She cries and refuses. I know she cries at school and gets upset because according to her "i miss my mommy", Ryan and I have always just figured that since we don't sit around and talk about cancer anymore because it is not an active part of our lives that everyone was ok. The other night, after her being home for 8 straight days, I got frustrated. I sat Gabrielle down and I told her that this was unacceptable, there was plenty of times that I didn't want to go to work but I had to go. There were many times I wanted to stay up late but I knew I had to go to bed early. I told her I didn't know what was going on with her and she needed to talk to me and tell me what was going on because mommy can't fix it if I don't know. Well, needless to say she lost it. What she told me felt like a bigger punch in the stomach then hearing "you have cancer". I picked her up and said "Gabby, what is going on? Did something happen at school?" in between sobs she said "no, I am scared because you had cancer", I reassured her that mommy was better now and that the cancer is gone, no reason to be sad. She kept going, she told me that when I was sick she was very scared I was going to go to heaven but she didn't want to make me more sad, she said she gets scared that if she is at school and the cancer comes back she doesn't know what will happen, she said that when she can see me and she knows that I am ok that makes her ok. The absolute worst part was when my 6 year old looked me in the eyes and said "I am sad that I couldn't fix you". Ugh, talk about losing it. I realized that at that point Gabby needs to talk to someone and finally get out everything that she is feeling.

All of this is just one more reason on the ever growing list to HATE cancer. I feel so hopeless because I can't help her. I can't make this all better. She is way to little to carry around this much sadness. Gabby has a very special gift and I know in my heart that all of this is going to make her become something amazing in life. I feel like she is going to grow up and be a doctor. Baby girl, I love you more then you will ever know and I am so sorry you have to deal with this. If I could make all this go away I would.

Pink-tober

Seeing how this month is Breast Cancer Awareness month, and I am aware. I figured now would be as good time as any to write a new blog. There are a few other "breast cancer" blogs that I follow, I have been reading them quite a bit latley and they seemed to have switched from a cancer blog to blogs about their kids, blogs about their jobs, blogs about what groceries they bought at the store that day. My blog is strictly about cancer and what struggles I faced and what struggles I still face. It may seem like my posts are all over the place, one month I am super happy and confident and the next I am nervous and really thinking about cancer. That is the point for me. This is my story about how cancer affected me and still affects me. This is also a blog that was started for Gabrielle and Cole, so that one day in the future when we no longer think about cancer and when everything is back to normal they can see exactly what happened, how long it took to be complete again. Also, if just one person discovers this site and reads it and they are helped with going through their own battle, or they see that I still struggle at times and it makes them feel better, thats all I wanted.

First a little update on myself. Still in remission! September 16th marked one year since I heard the words "cancer free", as time continues to move on I become more and more confident that cancer and I will never cross paths again. That doesn't mean that I don't think about it still or that I don't get scared, it just means that I am starting to finally feel like I will be here to see Gabby and Cole get married one day. Every breast cancer survivor out there has different feelings on moving on and different ways of coping with what happened to them. For me, after I was diagnosed I wanted to get the most aggressive treatment possible. I have put myself through hell and back, I made the decision to have my body forever altered, I choose a bilateral mastectomy. Those are the choices that I knew, in the long run, would give me the most peace of mind. Those choices also are what have held me back from emotionally healing. I honestly think family and friends look at me now and they see Amy again. They see the curly haired mother, wife, friend, daughter, that they have known, they have moved on. They have healed, in a way they have put it behind them and life goes on. I totally understand this. What I think people may forget is just because on the outside I look like Amy again, under the surface, I will never be that Amy again. Sometimes I feel like people may not fully get it, I know some people have said "its behind you now move on", "stop thinking about what you went throught". People can have a conversation with me, spend hours with me and the road I traveled may never cross their minds, people that are just meeting me would never know what I went through just a year ago. I think as time moves on people may forget (out of sight out of mind) but when I get up every morning and I look at myself in the mirror, I can never forget. I don't look in the mirror and see a 32 year old mother of two, I look in the mirror and see a person who is "altered". I used to try to avoid seeing my chest without anything on it, I used to be ashamed that I have boobs that don't belong to me, I hated to even think about what was in my chest now, I was embarrased of the 12 scars that now go across my chest. But those scars tell a story, they show that I may have gotten knocked down but I got right back up.  Don't get me wrong, I don't want people to pity me or give me special treatment because I am fine, I just honestly sometimes feel like people want you to think they care but deep down maybe they feel obligated to care. I guess what my point is, is I am really tired of hearing people say things like "oh your fine now", "stop thinking about it cause you are here", I guess I agree to a certain extent. I am VERY grateful to be able to be in remission, I am grateful for each new day I get. You can't expect me to move on completley after just 1 year when something that is a part of your womanhood and something that I knew I could flaunt before are now gone. I will never have the chest I was born with again, I will never be able to look at my chest and not be reminded of what cancer took from me. Yes, I survived breast cancer, but once the dust settles and you can see and think clearly again, its easy to get angry and frustrated at the fact that I am not that girl who was born on January 2, 1980. When I woke up from surgery on Spetember 16, 2011 and I had a 2 flat areas where D's once sat, I knew at that moment this part was going to be harder then all the treatments.

I am still learning from what I went through, I am still adapting to life again. Sure, it has been 1 year since chemo ( and I am completley over that ) but the physical changes to my body, I am not sure I can ever adjust to. I guess now is the time to say remember this happens to 1 in 8 women. This disease doesn't care about age, it dosen't care about what your plans are. Please know how important self exams, doctor exams, and mammograms are. If you think that something is off have it checked right away. If I would have waited this would have been a very different blog.

The future is a funny thing

Today I had another follow up with my absolute favorite person, Dr. Pahnke!Today he said something to me that really got me thinking about the beginning of my journey, pre-blog. The things I never wrote down. Today he took me in his office looked me in my eyes and said "I am VERY proud of you, I honestly didn't think you were going to be able to do this", he told me that the girl who sat in his office 4 times in March and the girl sitting there now were completely different. We chatted about how after I was given my final diagnosis and knew what I needed to do that the girl that had complete fear in her eyes turned into a fighter, that that look became I will beat this. Going into his office always makes me nervous, like sick to my stomach nervous. Every time I sit in the exam room and wait for him my thoughts go back to that afternoon when Ryan and I were sitting in there and he told us it was nothing to worry about and then 2 hours later sitting in there with my good friend Stephanie and being told I had cancer. I can still remember the way that office smelled that day, how the weather was, I remember what I was wearing, what Ryan was wearing, what color work shirt Steph had on but when it comes to remembering him saying "this is cancer", I draw a blank. I remember sitting in his office and staring at Steph, I remember saying "I am going to die", I remember him looking and talking directly to Steph. I just sat there and could only think of Gabby and Cole. I knew I needed Ryan and I couldn't remember how to use my phone, so I texted him. I simply wrote "I have cancer". That had to be an odd text to look down and see from your wife. Ryan kept calling my phone but I couldn't answer it, I couldn't feel my hands, my brain couldn't make the connection to hit the "answer" button on my phone. I just sat there and stared into space. It wasn't until Stephanie, Dr. Pahnke and I were walking out of his office that I came around the corner and saw Ryan walking down the hall. He put his arms me and it all hit me at once. I completely lost it. I kept saying "I don't want to die, I am going to die, why is this happening to me". Ryan asked Dr. Pahnke if he could talk with him about everything and he said absolutely. As Ryan headed back into his office I went upstairs to talk to my now oncologist. Dr. Pahnke stayed until well after 7pm to talk to Ryan, obviously we have a little girl and we needed to know what me being diagnosed at 31 meant for Gabrielle. Everything from here until the day I "announced" I had cancer was just one long day. His office moved quick, the very next morning I had an MRI, then my office worked even quicker, I then had a PET Scan (which is the worst test ever!), CAT Scan, another ultrasound, a biopsy, and a date to start chemo all within 1 week. I can honestly say that I don't believe you could pay me to ever get another PET Scan. I am not sure what is worse, being stuck in a "radioactive" suite all alone for an hour or laying in a tube not able to move for an hour. I did freak out during the PET Scan and the nurse had to come in and calm me down. After the test was over they told me to just lay there for a minute and they would go get Ryan. Its a bizarre feeling to think back to all those emotions, it honestly almost feels like it was all a dream. I guess that is part of the healing process.

It is also a weird feeling to think about the future again. After everything was happening to me I stopped thinking about anything beyond the day that I was living in, if I found myself thinking about the kids birthdays or Christmas I would suddenly feel sad and empty, almost like my mind was telling me that I may not be here for those things. I have finally allowed myself to think about the future and to get excited about things that are coming up. I can't wait to celebrate my one year cancer free in September, my kids 6th and 5th birthdays in October, to celebrate 9 years of marriage with Ryan in November, to meet my little Lukie Luke in January (one of my very best friends babies, she thinks he is hers). It feels so good and normal to have things to look forward to and be keeping my mind occupied.

I seem to have gotten off topic, I tend to do that a lot. My appointment today went great, still cancer free :) As I was leaving Dr. Pahnkes office today he said "go give em hell girl, you deserve this life". He is 100% right, I do deserve this life!

The other "C" word

Sometimes we have moments when something is said or happens that ends up replaying itself over and over again in our minds. I have been able to get a hold of my thoughts and feelings a lot better then I was able to a year ago. However, on Friday I had another three month follow up with my oncologist, the appointment went great, still in remission. I for some reason thought that since it has been almost 16 months since my diagnosis, 11 months since my last chemo, and nine and a half months since I was declared cancer free that I would ask about the other big "c" word, cure. Why I decided to ask my doc if I was cured is beyond me, I knew the answer. I know there is no cure for cancer, I mean if there was people would not be dying every day from it. I still asked. When my doc responded with no and remission, I told him I didn't like that word. Remission, it just sounds unsure. He explained everything to me again about the first three years being the most crucial and that each year I go with staying in remission the chances of recurrence get lower and lower, I don't know why hearing those words again made me feel like I suddenly had a heavy heart. It honesty took almost everything I had to hold back the tears (normally I would of just let it out but I am a big girl now). It was a strange mixture of feelings that was raging through me, I suddenly found myself worrying about Gabby and Cole again, I started to fear the thought of ever needing to go through chemo again, I started to become unsure. It's funny because when I had cancer and would see my doc I would leave the exam room feeling amped, like I was a warrior and nothing was going to get in my way or stop me. Now that I don't have cancer any longer I left the exam room feeling vulnerable and scared, sort of backwards. I am hoping that the reason I am feeling this way is because for the past three months I have lived my life, I didn't allow myself to spend anytime thinking about what I went through or the reality of everything. Sitting in an exam room with just your doctor and your conversation is solely about cancer it brings up all sorts of emotions.

Moving on, I was fortunate to come across an article that a fellow breast cancer survivor had posted on Facebook. The article was titled, " The Things I Wish I Was Told When I Was Diagnosed With Cancer", it was written by a 28 year old leukemia survivor named Jeff Tomczek. This article should be a hand out in every oncology office. He did an amazing job at describing perfectly what happens to you once you are told you have cancer. In his article he listed different things that you go through and he explained in detail what you will feel. Reading it was such a relief because I could relate to and remember everything that he was saying happening to me in my life. All his points were extremely important, however, there were a few that were my favorite and that I can really see in my own personal journey. One of his points were "Your relationships are about to change", he could not have been more correct about that. He talked about how some relations with people will get stronger and those that do will more than likely be with people you least expected. That is so true! I am so thankful for the new relationships that I have with certain people (you know who you are). Fear was another one of his points, he stated "Cancer is scary and incredibly confusing. The unknowing will eat at you worse than the disease itself.", "the people that love you will understand". I could not of written that better myself. No one can fully understand until you walk a mile, hell until you walk 5 steps, in the shoes of a person who has/had cancer. A lot of people don't understand how you can still think about it or worry about it once its gone but he is right, the ones that love you will understand, they will understand when all you want to do is be alone, or when you need to just cry because you can't wrap your head around why on this earth it happened to you. He talked about how no person wants to sit and think about death but hearing you have cancer, it leaves you no option. There does come a point when you accept it. When you know that you can not control it, I kiss my babies goodnight every night and make sure I tell them how much I love them, how amazing they are, how much they have made my life better. There are times after I know they are asleep I will go back in their rooms, kiss their heads and just whisper "I am sorry any of this happened". I also make sure that when I lay my head down I night I remember how thankful I am for the day I was given, for making it one more day cancer free. My absolute favorite part of this article was his last point, "When you get to the other side you won't believe it". "They will tell you the disease is gone. Everyone you know will rejoice and return back to their lives. You'll constantly wonder if it is coming back. Slowly this feeling will fade, but cancer will always be a part of you. It will define how you see the world moving forward. You're going to feel like the future is a funny thing to think about because the present is going to suddenly seem incredibly important. Keep moving. You'll be more productive. You'll understand who truly loves you because they will still be there. You'll want to meet new people that connect to the newly evolved version of your old self. You'll want to let go of those that don't "get" who you are now. You'll feel a little guilty doing it. Then, you'll move on. You don't have time to waste. The greatest gift you've been given is that you now understand that and you're going to make the most of every second. You're going to be the most passionate person you know going forward. Translate that passion to a greater purpose. Be fearless again."(Tomczek, 2012). I like how he says those that truly love you will still be there and that sometimes you have to let go of people and move on. He is right, I know I have experienced this. People that you thought were going to be the most understanding and there for you are the ones that let you down the most. It hurts to "lose'' some people but that just makes you hold onto the ones that are truly supportive and genuine a little tighter.

When you think the cancer has returned

After you have been through cancer treatment it is a hard process of getting your life back in order. You try not to think about what the chances are that your cancer could return, you try not to think that every headache you get is now brain cancer, that every time you have a coughing fit or feel short of breath that it is now in your lungs, it is hard to trust your body and to just have faith in that cancer is gone forever. Well, I try very hard to keep these thoughts at bay ( I am not always successful). A couple of days ago I noticed that under my right arm was very sore, it hurt to touch it and it hurt to sleep on the right side, typically I am over the top dramatic when I know that it is nothing. When I think that it could possibly be something I tend to try and keep it to myself. I have spent the last week or so crying hysterically once my kids had gone to bed because I was so afraid that something had returned. Even though I work in the same office as my oncologist I don't want to be that patient that is constantly running to him with everything that I feel. I was scheduled to see him again in July and I figured I would just wait until then to talk to him. As I have said before I am dramatic, I can admit to this freely. The very thought of hearing the words, recurrence, chemotherapy, or even CAT scan had me so sick to my stomach last night that I could not sleep. I sat on my couch next to Ryan last night and sobbed. I couldn't get the horrible feeling in my stomach (the same feeling I had the night I was told I had cancer) to go away, I kept saying I just want to see Gabby and Cole grow up, I am not ready for any of this to be happening again. I was completley terrified.

When I came into work this morning I told some friends/co-workers what I had felt and had them feel it and the next thing I knew my friend Maria and I were sitting in the exam room where I was told I had cancer. I was very nervous, I took a Xanax prior to getting to work that morning but it was not working. The doc came in and I try to not seem serious or scared so I just said "are you tired of me yet". He asked what I was feeling and he right away went to town pushing and feeling under my right arm. Let me tell you it hurt! I smacked his hand once (probably not a good idea) and he said he didn't feel anything abnormal, he said he did feel some thickening around the scar in my armpit and the other 4 scars I have on that side but all in all he was not concered but if it did get worse I needed and ultrasound to see exactly what was going on. I asked him why it hurt and what that really big hard piece was and apparently once your chest has been gutted and your surgeon tells you that all you are is implant and skin he is not exageratting. He said that was my ribs I was feeling. There is nothing else there so its skin, implant and apparently ribs. I guess once you get major surgery, reconstructive surgery, and radiation to an area you end up with all sorts of weird things.

I am more calm now and confident again that all is going to be ok. I hate when little things pop up just to remind of what an ordeal you had been through.

Moving on is hard to do...

It has been over a year now since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It feels like it was yesterday that I was sitting in my doctors office numb, scared, uncertain, and in disbelief. I am grateful for the second chance that I have been given, I am grateful for everyone who took care of me, I am grateful for the friends that were there from the beginning and continue to be there everyday. With keeping true to my previous blogs I am going to be honest, I am struggling with how to move on. I am struggling with finding a balance between my job and my life. I love my work, the people there, just about everything about MOHC but, as much as I love it I am starting to find it difficult to be there. I thought I had moving on figured out, I thought I was past the worrying, past the letting cancer be a part of my daily life. When you work at a cancer center, cancer is a part of your daily life. It's hard to take the negative thought of what could happen and shut if off when its in your face for 6 hours a day.

Prior to being diagnosed and working there I, as well as co-workers, would find myself putting myself in the shoes of our patients and worrying about headaches, bone pain, and just about everything because you don't want it to happen to you. It is scary, it ruins lives, it takes lives. Then throw actually going through it on top of this and it can become too much to handle. It sometimes feels impossible to not place myself in the shoes of the patients. Seeing the survivors is incredible, it gives you hope, it shows you that you can beat cancer, that every single patient is different, every single cancer is different, if only my day could be full of seeing the ones that survive this. The reality is, we are an oncology office, we see the ones that are not surviving, the ones that cancer has returned and is taking their lives, the ones that fought so hard and their fight wasn't enough, we see the ugly truth behind what it means to be a cancer patient.

It is easy to put on a happy face and a smile and say "yup, I beat cancer" but the fear of recurrence is something that no one else can understand. No one can tell you how to move on or how to feel after you have gone through being diagnosed, chemotherapy, surgeries, radiation, the whole nine. No one can fully understand how hard it is to move one, how hard it is to try and forget what happened, especially since when you look in the mirror and you have 12 scars on your chest, you have a set of boobs that aren't yours, you have this crazy hair that is growing back, you have gained weight thanks to the "anti cancer" pill you take every night, you have to wear a bandage on your arm because it is swollen, it makes it difficult. I fully understand how short this life we have is, that we only get one shot at living, that we need to be happy everyday, I just don't know if I can move on when I am surrounded by it daily. This is very difficult for me, I have been there for 7 years. Cancer has taken so much away from me that I don't want it to take this from me. People think that because you hear the words "cancer free" that everything goes back to normal, it doesn't.

So long to the port

Goodbye Maurice, you will not be missed. As Dr. Pahnke told me "today is a big day, it symbolizes that everything is officially over and it is time to start living your life again". It feels so good to no longer have that port in my chest. It coming out was a lot easier then I thought it was going to be. When I got to Dr. Pahnke's office this morning I was so nervous. Ryan and my good friend/favorite nurse Dawn were there. We were told that only one person could be back with me while the procedure was being done. I chose to have Dawn stay with me, she is very calming, she has been the only person to ever touch the port so it was perfect that she was there when it came out. Not to mention that Ryan doesn't handle blood and cutting that well, lets not forget what happened to him during my chest tube insertion. The whole procedure took about 20 minutes from start to finish.

Today when I got to see Dr. Pahnke again I was reminded of why I love him so much. He walked in the room and put a hospital looking OR jacket on over his clothes and I asked why he was putting that on, he said "I don't want to get blood on my tie", not too comforting doc! He took one look at my chest and said "WOW! Look at those, did you show them off to the neighbors yet", now remember this is the man that loves to say inappropriate things, however, him saying those things are a great distraction to what he is really doing. He got out his needles to numb the area and I started shaking. I have been stuck so many times over this past year but needles still make me queasy. The needles going in were the worst part of the entire ordeal. They stung really bad. When it was time to cut me open they had Dawn move over to my right side and she held my hand the whole time. I didn't feel him cutting me or anything, he numbed the area very good. I did feel some pressure in my chest as he moved the port around and cut scar tissue, when he pulled it out of me he held it above my face and said " here it is, I gave a you a purple one". It was fairly gross. He then said he was going to pull the tubing out and I might feel it moving through, he was right. It wasn't painful just an odd burning/traveling sensation. When he pulled the tube out he said "and here is the catheter", I was expecting it to be much longer so I said " that's all it is" well to no ones surprise his very appropriate response was "good thing I am not married to you, that's at least 14 inches", I love his humor. Apparently I was bleeding quite a bit, he kept applying a lot of pressure on the artery and he did a lot of stitching. When he was finally done with everything he sat me up, stood next to me, held my hand, and rubbed my back for about 5 minutes. He was talking to me about Disney World and about how 1 year ago I was just starting this journey. He said he was proud of me and he was happy it was finally over for me. Those are the little things that he does that makes you realize that he is doctor that is in his profession for the right reasons. He really cares deeply about his patients, he always takes the time to show you how much you mean to him. After I got dressed I took a picture of the port with my phone to show Ryan. He and Dawn both agreed that if was in there he would have been on the floor.

Dawn was a great person to have with me, she talked to me during the whole procedure, she never let go of my hand, and she made me feel safe. I will never be able to say how much she means to me, she has been there every step of the way with me. She got me through so much and has continued to help me emotionally through all this. She definitely chose the right career path, she is so caring and compassionate, I am so glad that I get to have her as my nurse/coworker/friend.

They said all this would be one year out of my life. Today it was exactly one year since I had the port put in. Everything came full circle today and I am glad to say GAME OVER!! Amy won :)

1 year, port removal and Disney World

On March 24th I passed the one year mark of my diagnoses. I can't believe that it has been a year. When I think back on the night that forever changed me I feel so proud of myself. I have come so far and overcome so many things. I remember thinking about everything that I was about to go through and feeling like there was no end in sight. When in actuality the year flew by! I know I have said in previous posts how thankful I am for my doctors but saying it a few times doesn't feel like enough. I honestly feel like I hit the doctor lottery (if there was such a thing). I would not trade Drs. Pahnke, Misleh, or Saunders for anything. Each of them have been so caring, compassionate, and have all gone above and beyond what a doctor has to. Dr. Panke did such an incredible job with my surgery, he spent so many of his own personal hours talking to my husband and I. He took the time to invest in me and my family and he really truly cared. It wasn't the I have to because I am your doctor and it is my job care it was I am going to do whatever it takes whenever it needs to be done care. Seeing him every 6 months now feels like a lifetime between appointments, I actually miss him. Dr. Misleh knows how I feel about him, he has the hardest job in the world at times and the best at other times. There is not a day that goes by that I do not feel grateful for him. He got me through the worst year of my life, now anyone that knows me knows that I can be a little much to handle at times and some might even say I am dramatic (which I totally am)but Dr. Misleh never downplayed any of my feelings or concerns, he listened to my crazy questions and silly reasoning for doing things and he had an ability to make me feel calm, maybe it is because he saved my life but when he says something I believe in him with everything I have. Dr. Saunders has such a special place in my heart. I never thought that I would ever look in the mirror again and be happy with what I saw. Dr. Saunders did such an incredible job, he gave me back something that cancer took away from me. Not only did he give me back some boobs but I have to say they are better than the other ones. How many 32 year olds with two kids can say they have perky twenty year old boobs, it's nice. Everyday I feel more and more like myself again and everyday I am one step closer to hearing the word cured. Yesterday, April 5th, I received my 18th and final Herceptin infusion! I also get to have my port, or Maurice as my kids call it, removed next Wednesday morning ( side note, DO NOT YouTube any procedures you are going to have done, you will find a video and it will scare the crap out of you). I am so excited to finally have that thing removed from my body. Of course I am nervous, the thought of my collapsed lung when it went in terrifies me. Now of course there is no chance of them collapsing my lung while removing it but it still haunts me. That was the worst experience of my life and I will never let anyone give me a chest tube again. Having the port removed feels like it is all officially over, something I have been dreaming about and wanting to happen for the past year. DISNEY WORLD! In ten days we will pack up the car and travel to sunny Florida for seven days of just the Minskers. We have never been a family vacation before, the last time Ryan and I went away was to the Outer Banks while I was pregnant with Gabby. The kids can hardly contain their excitement but I think mommy might just be a little more excited. I am so grateful for the women in radiation who nominated my family for this trip and even more thankful for the For Pete's Sake Foundation for choosing my family for this trip. It is going to be so nice to not think about anything that has happened, to see my kids faces when they see Disney and to make some really great memories with Ryan, Gabby, and Cole. All in all what started out as being a horrible journey that I didn't want to go on, it is endidng with me feeling I am grateful for each experience I have had.

1 week with my new boobs

Today has been one week since I had those pesky expanders removed and the gummy bears put in. I thought all would be perfect a week later, not so much. I still love the new "girls" however, I am so sore, bruised, tired, and the pressure in  my chest is unreal. I had my one week post op appt yesterday, Dr. Saunders is out of town so I had to see one of his associates, lets just say I am glad I have Dr. Saunders. The doc came in looked at my chest and said everything is healing nicely. He moved the implant on the right side closer to the middle to give me "nice cleavage". After the expanders were completely filled the gap I had between my boobs was bad, I could literally fit a water bottle in between them. So, since he moved the right side over I am very bruised on that side. These implants are so much nicer than the expanders. I do feel as though there is an elephant standing on the middle of my chest. They told me that the pressure and tightness will last about two weeks, that I needed to remember someone was in there moving things around and placing two foregin objects into my body.

I asked the fill in doc yesterday if I could see exactly what was in my chest, she got one of the implants for me to hold. Holy crap! It was a large, heavy, squishy round blob. She said the "show" implant was only 600cc's so the one in  my chest was 100cc's bigger. No wonder it hurts. I am in no way against people who decide to have implants placed but I do think they are a little on the crazy side. There is no way I would voluntarily put myself through this. As with everything else I have been through this year I am just going to take it one day at a time and heal from this surgery.

Anyway, I still have my stitches in, they can not come out until Monday. Just the thought of those things holding my skin together make me a little queasy.

Dr. Saunders and my new boobs

Yesterday, March 15th, I had my final surgery to have the tissue expanders ( or coconuts as my kids called them) replaced with my new high profile gel implants. It feels so good to have those uncomfortable expanders out. I was very nervous going into this final surgery, it was being done at the Limestone Medical Centers surgi suite. I really wanted to be in a hospital but Dr. Saunders does his surgeries there so I did trust him. Don't get me wrong I was very nervous and I cried A LOT ( shocker huh). Everyone told me it was very common to be more scared of this surgery. The last surgery served a purpose, to make cancer free, this one was just to get implants. I was told it would be a super easy surgery but I was still on edge. Next week marks the 1 year anniversary of all this and my anxiety level is high. Anyway, back to my boobs and Dr. Saunders.

I met with Dr. Saunders last week to go over everything and get the final size and implant information. The biggest implant that they make is 800cc's, my expanders were filled to 650cc's, I asked him if I could go bigger and he said he could pump the implant up to 700cc's since the muscle was stretched to fit a 650 implant. Now, 700cc's may seem like a lot and for a person with breast tissue getting this size it would be very big. I have no breast tissue so I am just implant muscle and skin, the new girls aren't that big. I should be a full C cup when all is said and done. These implants are wonderful, they are squishy, I feel normal again. The expanders were rock hard and they didn't move, making sleeping and pretty much everything else difficult. My doctor decided that since the original scars had healed so nicely he did not want to re-open them, instead he went under my boobs this time. He also fixed my Tori Spelling gap in my boobs. I feel so much better now.

Dr. Saunders was the plastic surgeon that I had always had in my mind from the beginning. I knew he was a great surgeon, he operated on my nephews eyebrow when he was 1. When Dr. Pahnke told me that he recommended him I knew it was going to be good. He is an extremely caring, compassionate, and talented man. He has thanked me for letting him be a part of this. Not to mention that he is pretty funny too.

When I arrived at the surgi center I was beyond nervous. I gave them my name and lost it. Thank God that we were the only people in there at 6:45am. Once I got back in the pre-op room, Ryan and my mom came back with me, I was able to calm down a little. I told the nurse that I was extremely nervous and was afraid that I would not wake up, she said "we haven't lost a patient yet". That's good. Everything seemed to be moving quickly, I figured since I was scheduled for so early in the morning my doctor would be late, he wasn't. He came in after about 5 minutes and said "ready", I told him I was very scared and asked if he would make sure I was ok. He bent down in front me to draw on my chest and he said " have I let you down yet" I said "no", he responded with " well I am not gonna start now". I started to feel a little better, after he left to get the OR ready, my anesthesiologist came in. He was super friendly and funny, everyone at Limestone was incredible. The doc started my IV and said he had something to make feel better, he gave me a shot of Versed. It took maybe 1 minute to kick in. After that I was pretty calm. The anesthesiologist said I had been through the worse and this was going to be simple. When it was time to go to the OR they brought me a wheel chair since I was a little unsteady. I said bye to Ry and my mom and off I went. I felt pretty good going into the OR this time, it didn't last long. As soon as I got in the OR I thought I was going to hyperventilate. I got up on the OR table and saw 2 anesthesiologist and Dr. Saunders. I layed myself down on the table and started crying, I remember I just kept saying " I wanna wake up, please make sure I wake up" Dr. Saunders was standing right next to me and I asked him to hold my hand until I was asleep. He said absolutely. He took my hand and told me I was going to be fine. They gave me another shot of Versed, then they brought over the "oxygen". They said "you are crying so hard we need to give you a little oxygen", I said "that is anesthesia not oxygen". He giggled and said just take a deep breath and relax. Next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and looking at Dr. Saunders. He was last person I saw before going to sleep and the first face I saw when I woke up. I looked at him and I just said "thank you". He said " I told you, you would wake up". Waking up from that crap is hard. You feel lost. After I was in recovery for a bit they said I could get dressed and go home. I was very nervous to see what it looked like. When I took the hospital gown off I was in complete shock! He did an AMAZING job. They are no were near as perky as the expanders, they are round and expand across my entire chest instead of just sitting there. I am very very happy with the results. They are an entire cup size smaller than my orginal boobs but I love them. Dr. Saunders really does a great job. I have to wear a sports bra for the next couple of weeks since I was cut underneath and to help squish them down so they don't rise up before they are healed.

I am so glad that I can put this behind me now. They are very sore today and itchy. I have an allergy to steri strips and tape but, he stitched, glued, and steri-stripped me, then covered me with gauze and tape. The two things I am allergic to, which is probably why I am itchy. Oh well, I can live with the itchiness over the expanders any day.

I am sorry if this post seems all over the place, I am jacked up on pills. I am going to rest now and let my new girlies heal. Thank you Dr. Saunders!!!!

My story

Today I had the honor of sharing my story. I was asked by a co-worker if I would be interested in coming to her church and share my journey with a group of women. I was very excited to be able to do this. I am not going to lie as the time came for me to get up there and share, which meant read, the 10 pages that I had written I was sure I was going to vomit on myself. I have never spoken in front of a group of people before, I had written a quote on the top of my papers that my good friend Dawn had given to me at the beginning of my treatments. The quote was written on a rock, it says "the only thing we have to fear is fear itself" F.D.R.. I wrote this down so I would be able to look at it and calm myself down if I started to freak out. I would like to share my story on my blog. Somethings may sound familiar since I tried to document my entire journey, the purpose of putting this on my blog is so that maybe one person who has not read my blogs will see this one post and be inspired, that maybe one person who was just diagnosed will see this and know that everything they feel is normal and they will get through it, that maybe I can help someone who is going through something. Here is my story:

My name is Amy Minsker, I am 32 years old, I am a mommy to a 5 year old little girl named Gabrielle and a 4 year old little boy named Cole. I am the wife of an extremely caring, compassionate and wonderful man named Ryan and on top of all these things I know get to add cancer survivor to my list.

My journey with this disease began on March 24, 2011. One week prior to this my son, Cole, and I were sitting on the couch together, when he went to get up he elbowed me in the chest. Over the next few days I noticed that the right of my chest was very sore. I also noticed the area where he had elbowed me became very hard, I was certain it was just a bruised muscle and when on with my daily life. Over the next week I had decided to ask a few co-workers what they thought, I was encouraged to have one of the doctors I work for take a look ( that is an added bonus of working for oncologists). As soon as he started to examine me I knew the look on his face was bad. I was sent the very next day to see a surgeon, a man who became a huge part of my life, a man who I am forever indebted too. The day I was told I had cancer is one I will never forget, it is the day that I not only was told about cancer but it is also the day I came face to face with my biggest fear, death. For me fear has always been a huge part of my life. I have struggled with extreme anxiety and panic attacks since I was 18 years old. I was afraid of so many things that my fears had finally consumed my life. I seeked out many different therapies for my anxiety but nothing seemed to work for me. I thought having spent the past 32 years afraid of everything that I knew about every type of fear imaginable, I was wrong. The fear that came with this was different. I was not only afraid for me but I was afraid for my children. How do I tell them? How do I comfort them? How do I answer their questions? After the doctor said "this is cancer" their faces were the first things that entered my mind. I kept having flashes of them growing up without their mommy, I kept imagining having to say goodbye to them way too soon. I could not focus on anything the doctor was saying, I just begged him to not let me die. I kept repeating over and over "I have two small kids and now I am going to die", "what about Gabby and Cole, I can't die". He assured me that we were going to do everything possible to save my life. That first night after hearing that type of news was the worst night of my life. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat. All I could do was cry. I looked at my kids and cried, I looked at my husband and cried. I sat all night on my couch next to my husband and just cried. After the first few days had past and I met with all my doctors, I received my final diagnosis ( stage 3A invasive ductal carcinoma) and my treatment was in place was I able to sit down and come to terms with what I was about to go through. The road that was laying in front of me was four months of aggressive chemotherapy, one year of an antibody infusion, a bilateral mastectomy with reconstruction, radiation, and lastly an antiestrogen pill daily for the next five years. I knew this journey was going to be the hardest, longest, most heartbreaking experience I had ever faced but I also knew it was worth it.

Chemotherapy is just as horrible as you imagine it will be. It terrified me to the point that I would be sick to my stomach and shake just knowing that in order to live I had to have toxins pumped into my body. My fear of chemotherapy was intensified by my anxiety. I was afraid of taking something as simple as Tylenol and now I had no choice, I had to get chemotherapy. I was kept pretty drugged during my 5 hour infusions so I don't really remember actually getting the medicine. However, I do know that every pain, every ache, every nasty side effect was 100% worth it. Everything that came with the chemo, the being sick, losing my hair, losing some fingernails, the extreme fatigue, all of these things temporary but I was permanent. I am standing here today cancer free because of it. After my body had time to heal from chemo it was time for surgery. I had an out patient procedure done in the beginning of this nightmare that ended with a collapsed lung and a hospital stay, so to say I was nervous was an understatement. I was nervous about going under the knife for five hours, I was nervous about what I would look like when I woke up. I was told by my surgeon that I was a candidate for a breast conserving operation or lumpectomy. He was confident he could remove all the cancer without removing my entire breast. I opted to still have the double mastectomy for peace of mind. They say it doesn't offer any greater reduction rate in recurring but in my mind they were the enemy now, they no longer needed to be a part of my body. After my surgery I had temporary implants placed that will be switched out for permanent ones next month. Yes, there was a lot of physical and emotional pain with having a mastectomy. It was hard to accept that any of this was happening at 31 years old. It has been five months since my surgery and I do not regret my decision to have a double mastectomy, I am glad I did.

Once you are told the devastating news that you have cancer, nothing can prepare you for the roller coaster of emotions you are going to go through. I was scared, I had cancer at 31, not a cold or something that could be easily treated. I was scared of the surgery, I was scared of dying. I don't know what happens after leave this life, I just knew I didn't want to be without my kids and husband, I was not ready to find out the answer. I was angry. I was angry it happened to me, I never asked for this, I didn't want this. I would find myself getting mad looking at other mothers and their teenage children, why did that mom get to see her kids grow up? I would get angry looking at an elderly couple eating dinner in a restaurant, why did they get to spend a lifetime together? I was mad that I was scared. Through all of the different emotions that I felt the most difficult to overcome was sadness. I was sad for two simple reasons Gabrielle and Cole. I would look at my beautiful babies and I think I was so lucky to have them but why, why would God take me away from them? I fought so hard to get pregnant, why would God let this happen now when they are so little? I would spend hours thinking about what if they had to go through life without me, I am their mommy, the one person who knows them best. I know when they don't feel well, when they just want to be with me because I can make it all better. Who would they turn to if I wasn't here? I knew I had to fight for them, the very thought of someone else being there for my kids was heartbreaking. I will be the one who helps Gabrielle pick out her wedding dress one day. I will be there to see Cole play baseball in high school and help him decide what he wants to be. I will hold their children in my arms one day. Saying goodbye and leaving Gabrielle and Cole was not and is not an option.

In the past 11 months I have faced numerous tests, been sick from chemotherapy, underwent two surgeries, endured 28 days of radiation, and had one brief hospital stay. I wanted to know why all this was happening to me at 31. I wanted to know why I was being punished. I thought I would never be able to forgive God for making me go through this and possibly taking me away from my family. I spent a lot of hours pleading with God for my life, yelling at him for allowing this happen, and questioning whether or not I even believed. How could a healthy 31 year old with no family history be faced with this? How could any of this be fair? I thought I would be sad and cry forever, I thought I would never be able to accept the fact that my body had been altered. It took me a few months to realize that God wasn't punishing me for something, that this happened to me because I was strong enough to handle it, I just didn't know it at the time. I was the girl who was literally afraid of everything and I conquered so many things that I never thought in a million years I would do. I never liked medicine and I survived four rounds of chemotherapy. I never thought I would get surgery (let alone plastic surgery) and I survived a five hour major surgery and now have breast implants. I never thought I would stop crying and now my tears are few and far between.

I still wonder why this happened to me, I still get overcome with fear it will return and I will not see my kids grow up, the difference now is I know in my heart that I have done everything possible to keep me cancer free. I know I am stronger then I thought possible. I needed to be put face to face with my fears in order to overcome them. This happened to me because I am strong, because I am confident, because I don't give up, and because I am a fighter. I decided in the beginning of my journey that cancer would not be my death sentence. I have endured a lot of ups and downs during my journey but in the end I survived them all.

Cancer doesn't care if you are young or old, male or female, black or white. Cancer comes into your life with the intention of destroying it but for me, cancer improved my life. I no longer fear anxiety or the issues that come along with it. I know now to enjoy every minute of every day because we are not promised tomorrow, we are not ever promised the rest of today. I got to start my life over again and change whatever I wanted about myself. I learned a lot about myself and I learned that God is good. Cancer was a necessary evil to open my eyes to all these things. Going through this journey was definitely hard, I got through a lot of the bad times with help and encouragement from friends and family. I did receive a plaque from a close friend that had a bible verse on it that holds a special meaning to me. The verse is Jeremiah 29:11 " For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future".

One in eight is how many people breast cancer affects. 2.5 million is how many breast cancer survivors are currently living in the United States. I am very fortunate and grateful that I am able to stand up here today and share my journey with everyone and say that I am a part of the 2.5 million. Thank you.

So there it is, my story. I really do hope that this reaches just one person. If I can go through this journey and come out victorious anyone can.